More from Melissa Ramoo

When I received the email from The Upper Room saying my meditation was on hold for further consideration—I would normally have been ecstatic. Instead, it compounded my grief. Earlier in the month we had just gone through our second miscarriage. Through tears, I read my meditation once again, seeking comfort in my own words. I had shared such a vulnerable part of my life publicly, and I had more heartbreak to deal with.

Forget calling me “Mara.” I felt I would be forever known as “the miscarriage girl.” About 10-20 percent of pregnancies end in miscarriage, but the chance of two pregnancy losses in a row is only 0.05-1 percent. I was so angry with God, especially as my husband and I both felt it was God who put it in our hearts to try to have a child.

Looking back, I wish I told myself my real identity—that I was still a daughter of the Most High despite my circumstances—but all I could do was speak words of condemnation to myself. After some time though, I decided to cling to God’s identity instead. God was still my Redeemer. Yes, God is my Redeemer. I prayed my own Upper Room prayer many times with increased passion. Lord, I will not let this dark season define me. Author of life—Renewer, Sustainer, Guardian, and Redeemer—pray you will turn my bitterness into beauty. Amen.

After months passed by, we decided to try again. For the third time, we were met with signs of a miscarriage. My doctor rang up and told me there was “no hope;” my blood work indicated that the pregnancy was not viable. I remember wailing so loudly that I thought it would shake the foundations of our house down. My husband ran into the room—sunken eyes, broken heart, and crushed spirit. I rocked myself back and forth repeatedly crying “bye bye, baby.”

We were immediately sent for an ultrasound to check if I would require any procedures. When we got to the medical center and saw the technician, she let us know our doctor had misread the results. My blood test results were normal and, praise God, we could see our growing baby!

On March 6, 2023, we finally met our long-awaited baby of promise—Josiah. The name Josiah means God heals, sustains, and supports. Josiah is a living testimony of God’s work in our lives. My husband and I could not have imagined how much we have loved being parents and what a blessing our beautiful boy has been.

Recently, I visited Josiah’s godmother, who was lamenting over the fact that she had multiple fractures in her foot that were not healing. Months of treatment and appointments with health professionals weren’t working, and she was still in pain. Josiah put down his toys, crawled over, sat next to her foot, and put his hands together to pray. My friend and I burst out crying—Josiah was reminding us who to turn to. Yes, God is our Redeemer. Yes, God can turn our bitterness into beauty.

Finally, as I write this meditation I want to acknowledge and grieve with my brothers and sisters who are still experiencing infertility. I am so sorry, and my heart breaks with you. I am praying my prayer over you as you read this, and I will pray it again and again.